Said Something
by CreamTea
Summary: Second chapter finally added, to those who want to know.
1. A Wordish Game

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any word or character invented by J.K.Rowling, and I promise not to make money out of this.

**A.N.:** If this story seems familiar to some on this site, they are right in assuming that this has been re-posted: I was totally annoyed that I spelled the title wrong. And I´ve written a second chapter. So a double-title would have been useless; the first chapter is now called "A Wordish game"; it´s not part of the title anymore.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to: "**MinnieLover**", who, some months ago, reviewed my last story "With a little help" and "**tussis**", who, only just today, reviewed this in its original version. Thanks again.

**Said something : A wordish game **_by CreamTea_

A corridor. An empty corridor.

Nothing unusual.

If said corridor wouldn't have been in Hogwarts, if it wouldn't have been around ten a.m. and a nice day sometime in early spring.

And if a lone figure of a lone girl wouldn't have walked down said corridor.

Yes, it was a lone girl. Very lonely indeed. As she passed a window, she shot an icy glare towards the quiddich pitch. Mark you, the quiddich pitch itself didn't make her glare icily, it were more likely the human beings on said pitch that made her glare. In fact, one human being.

Said being wasn't amidst the mass of cheering in the stands, it was wearing a nice red and gold Gryffindor quiddich uniform, flying around the goalhoops in sheer glory, holding the quaffle he had prevented from flying through one of the hoops only seconds ago in one hand and waving said hand randomly through the air.

In fact, said being was a male being.

Doesn't this explain everything?

Apparently not.

So said girl was in love with said boy. Said boy was in love with said girl. Said girl knew that said boy was in love with her, but she was a girl. Said boy didn't know that said girl was in love with him, and he was a boy. So she waited and he did nothing. Absolutely nothing. And still, he was so obvious! The way he was jealous of every boy at school, the way he watched her constantly, he way he blushed when she'd pecked him on the cheek last year. Aaah, this famous peck on the cheek. See, she's tried to give him hints. She's tried. But he? He was oblivious. Simply oblivious, as if he didn't like her as much as she liked him. But she knew.

She'd known since the Yule Ball. And she wouldn't forget.

**A.N.:** I hope you liked it. Just one hint: In the next chapter will be far more… activity. ;- )


	2. Utter Rubbish

**Said Something – Utter Rubbish** _by CreamTea_

In the library.

Again.

As always.

But she didn't take in the words, she just read them. And that's a big difference.

The question is: If she didn't read, wasn't even interested into reading, then why was she in the library?

Simple answer: She didn't want to enter the Gryffindor Common Room - her Common Room.

They'd have to end their little winning-party soon, anyway. Exactly at 10 p.m., not a second later, McGonagall would storm in and end it in a rather loud way. No further explanations.

A grim smile crossed her lips. They deserved it, after all. They were smiling and laughing and having fun while she…

Sigh.

Cough.

Cough?

Oh no.

Oh no, no.

"My dear, don't you want to…"

Why don't you just say what you mean? Why doesn't anyone say what they mean? I know that I annoy you. I know that the whole school annoys you. I also know that you have to be nice because Dumbledore wants you to be. I know that you want me to get the hell out of here. But, bad luck, one can't have everything. Either a good reputation or good fun, both does obviously not work. I've come to that conclusion a long time ago.

"…erm…go to bed now? You must be really tired, poor thing!"

"She'll come with me, won't she?"

Oh.

No…

Not really?

Sigh…yes.

"Indeed, _she_ will. Good night, Mrs. Pince."

°

°

°

"What took you so long?"

"I had to study." Liar.

"Aha."

°

°

°

"And why didn't you watch the game?"

He noticed?

"I just didn't feel like watching."

°

°

°

"It's a pity, you know. I only played half as well as usual without you."

Oh no. Cheek-glowing.

"Oh, but you kept the quaffle at least once. You couldn't have been _too_ bad."

"In fact, I kept it a few times…but…how'd you know?"

Oh no. I told him. As well as.

"I saw it as I passed a window."

Grin. Lop-sided grin. Hilarity. Happiness. And a certain tone of triumph in his voice I didn't like hearing.

"So you watched?"

"I didn't. I just happened to pass a window facing the Quidditch Pitch as that thing happened." Which was the truth. Well, almost. I just looked out a little longer than necessary. Just one sec. Just five minutes. Gulp.

"Aaah, yes." His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"WHAT? Have I done something illegal?"

"Ha! You just admitted that you were watching!"

"I did not! I just admitted that I _saw_ it! I didn't _watch_ it!"

"That's the same!" He threw his hands up in frustration.

I turned around to spit something back, only to find myself practically sticking to his chest.

And then I noticed.

We were close.

Really close.

Closer than friends should be.

I could see every freckle sprinkled around this adorable Weasley-mouth of his - they were just eye-level. I cranked my head up to look into his surprised eyes, and, led by an invisible force, some instincts I didn't know I possessed came through: I grabbed his neck and crushed his lips against mine. My sudden movement must have caused some stumbling because I suddenly felt myself being squashed against the wall, and with a nice hop, my legs seemed to find their way around his waist all on their own. He didn't seem to mind at all. Well, I didn't mind his hands being everywhere, either.

As a child I had been appalled at the sight of two lovers practically eating each other up, but I have to say, all the pairs´ snogging taken together was nothing against ours: All I can say is that "snogging" was faaar underestimated.

Still, as nice as it had been, after about five minutes or so the air streaming in through my nose was no longer enough for my lungs, so I broke away, panting.

"And I did not watch.", I said and, before he had the chance to reply, my lips were again upon his.

I have to say that, since then, our arguments have been much more enjoyable than before.

´´´´´

**A.N.:** I hope the change from third to first person singular was not too confusing. To me, this was the best way to narrate the story.

I also hope I've made it obvious that it's Ron who joins the conversation Madam Pince and Hermione were having. Yours, _CreamTea_


End file.
